Overture Downs not my friend but i wont say no

The cerulean maiden, however, did not disappear as Ulfric drew closer into the thick clouds. She wasn't armed with guardsmen nor poised in a stance to attack him when the distance was far enough. The strange woman was quiet, her lips unmoving, yet something about her roared like a leopard in the snow - cold and fierce. It was her eyes, he'd realize, bright as comets in the dark cloak of night. Ulfric could see her silently analyzing him, taking in his scent of urdwood and cloves, and he could not blame her as the huntsman had surely done the same.

So perhaps she wasn't a doted princess, but that did not mean she wasn't of nobleblood. The older man could imagine her in a court of Lords, discussing matters of politics amidst galas. But these weren't answers, they were assumptions of only what the naked eye could see. When he was close enough, the woman spoke of his travels and their insufferability. Ulfric stopped in his tracks, feeling his silhouette catch most of the snow specks and cold winds from flowing into the roan stranger's face.

He wondered loosely what her mind had made of him—what her naked eye could see and make judgment upon. Those concerns never previously crossed the man's mind, and yet here he was thinking about them. Better to snuff it out now rather than allow it to consume him.

“Your eye is as keen as an arrow to it's target, ” he replied, his voice filled with a gruff raspiness that revealed his laden exhaustion—like he'd prefer to be anywhere but in those fields again. Half lidded eyes stared down to her, his tail swinging low as he'd taken a long inhale. “The good folk of Brightreach left much to be desired. But I doubt someone like you would know anything about that,” Because, frankly, Ulfric had never seen anyone quite like her within the town.